Just the Begining
by Harleyquinn811
Summary: It all begins a lazy sunday afternoon while Sherlock experiments. John realized he likes Sherlock's hair. And that's not the only thing he likes. right now just fluff...maybe smut later? not really sure...my first story. Rated M just in case cause I don't know what will happen.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So this is my first story…..please be gentle…..I will try and update ASPA but I don't know….life is pretty crazy.

"Why not, John?" Sherlock demanded. He stood in the kitchen safety goggles on and test tubes in his hands. Clad in pajama bottoms and a loose shirt he wore his robe over top careful not to burn it on the Bunsen burner he had lit on from of him.

"Because Sherlock, you can't just ask to experiment on the bodies in molly's morgue! It's not right." John turned from his latest blog entry and glared. They had been having a lazy Sunday afternoon when Sherlock had announced he needed a whole human to experiment on. John had been shocked. He was used to body parts but a whole human? No way was he going to let Sherlock to that in Baker Street.

"How is it not right? It's not like the corpses would need their body. They are dead." Sherlock sighed in exasperation. He held the test tube over the fire and watched as the liquid began to boil.

"Have some respect for the dead, Sherlock." John said firmly. Sherlock shrugged and when back to his experiments. John sighed and stared at Sherlock. His long curls fell in his face and John stared for a moment. _His hair looks good like that._ John though and then paused. He quickly turned back to his laptop. _Did I really just think that? About my flatmate? _He shrugged and glanced back to Sherlock. No big deal, the though had passed and he shrugged again. Hours later, Sherlock came up behind John and leaned over John's shoulder, reading ever word of his current blog post.

"Whom." He said without looking away from the screen. Sherlock was inches away from john and John could feel the warmth of Sherlock's body.

"I'm sorry?" John asked quietly. Being this near to Sherlock seemed to have taken his breath away. _This should not be happened. HE IS MY FLATMATE! My best friend. I should not be like this. What is going on? _John wondered.

"That should be whom not who." Sherlock pointed to the screen. His eyes met johns and they held the gaze. 5 seconds, 10 seconds, for 15 seconds before either of them turned away. Sherlock cleared his throat and walked back to the kitchen.

"Thank you." John said quietly turning to fix the mistake.

"Anytime." Sherlock responded. _What was that?_ John wondered.


	2. Chapter 2

"It was the brother." Sherlock said softly, popping his color up over his cheek bones. It was a chilly January evening when the body was discovered. Lastrade had called Sherlock almost as soon as he got there. With no fingerprints or bruising, it looked as if the woman had just dropped dead from nowhere. Blonde, tall, in business clothes, she was in her late 30's.

"How in the world could you know that?" Lastrade asked. "I need proof, Sherlock. I can't just take your word for it." Sherlock rolled his eyes and sighed as Lastrade pulled out his notepad.

"Honestly you are so thick!" Sherlock exclaimed. John glared at him and Sherlock paused before ratting off his deductions. He rambled continuously for upward to 5 minutes about everything from her clothes to her nail varnish to the way her hair sat on her head. As he finished he sighed, and said, "Honestly this was only a 3. Why did you even call me?" he sighed and turned around to leave without waiting for an answer. As he walked away john sighed and apologized gently for Sherlock before quickly following him to street where he had successfully hailed a cab. Sherlock climbed in and John quickly followed.

"That was very rude." John stated lightly. Sherlock looked at him puzzled. "What you said back there? About everyone being thick? That was rude Sherlock." Sherlock shrugged.

"They were being thick and I call it as I see it, John. You of all people know that." Sherlock pulled out his phone and sent a text. Glancing at the clock to cleared his throat. "It is now 5. Would you like to stop at Angelo's for some pasta?" John smiled.

"Yes I would like that." Sherlock directed the cabbie to Angelo's and John sat quietly thinking about at the crime scene. He though about the evidence that they had all missed. All except Sherlock that is. Sherlock somehow never missed anything, never a glace or a single clue. _How he does that will always be a mystery to me. _John though as they arrived at Angelo's. John paid the cabbie as Sherlock got their regular table inside.

"Will you be eating this evening?" John joked as he opened the menu. Sherlock glared at him and opened his own menu.

"Actually I think I will." Sherlock replied. John chuckled

"I get the pleasure?" John smiled as he joked. Sherlock looked up puzzled. "I'm joking Sherlock." Sherlock chuckled and nodded.

"I thought so. But I wasn't so sure." As Sherlock said this Angelo arrived at their table with the usual candle and John sighed. _We are not a couple. _John though. As they eat John watched Sherlock. He didn't see Sherlock eat often (more often now then when they first met) so when he did, John paid very close attention to what he ate. Over the years John had learned that Sherlock loved Italian food more then anything. Any time they when out Angelo's was the fist place he suggested. John though about all the times he and Sherlock had eaten and he smiled. _I love it when he eats._ John though. He paused panicking.

"John? Are you okay?" John looked up from his food to see Sherlock looking worried. John cleared his throat.

"Yes." he said smiling weakly. "Just tired." Sherlock nodded and continued eating. _Did I really just think that? _John wondered. _No. I'm just tired. I'm straight. I don't love Sherlock or anything about him. That's it tired. I'll go home and get some rest and be better in the morning._


End file.
